


I don't mind

by simplyclockwork



Series: natural progression [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Eventual Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Series, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 20:10:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21361999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplyclockwork/pseuds/simplyclockwork
Summary: “Curled together on the couch andclinging with hands and fingers in your hair;my arms fell asleep long ago,but I don’t mind”
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: natural progression [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538974
Comments: 12
Kudos: 93





	I don't mind

**Author's Note:**

> Ficlet 8 in a series of short fics I'm planning to write based on posts from the tumblr account affectionatesuggestion
> 
> The series will follow a progression into an established Johnlock relationship
> 
> The prompt for this instalment was adapted from this text post by affectionatesuggestion on tumblr:
> 
> "We’re cuddling on the couch. It’s too narrow for us to lay side by side so I’m laying directly on top of you. I’m clinging to you with my hands behind your head and fingers intertwined in your hair. My arms fell asleep long ago but I don’t mind. I drift to sleep to the sound of your soft snoring. We’re both happy."

In the days after they sat wrapped within one another’s arms on the sofa, unspoken words between them like entire, unreferenced worlds, there’s an awkwardness and an ease of being neither of them experienced before.

Neither John nor Sherlock speak of the incident, but there is a new dynamic to their life together in 221B, one that takes the form of uncertain smiles across the sitting room; finds their hands brushing more often than can be attributed to accident or unintentional movements.

On a night when John settles on the couch to watch crap telly, Sherlock drops into the cushion beside him. Stretching out his long legs, he leans back into John’s chest, head cradled just beneath the other man’s chin. This has become a new routine for them, one they both silently look forward to with soundless, implicit agreement.

It’s good—peaceful and welcomed by both. John’s legs drape along either side of Sherlock’s waist with the detective snuggled between, and when John tangles his fingers in crisp, black curls, that’s even better. So he does it often, keeping his hands there long after his arms fall asleep from the awkward angle.

When Sherlock snorts and grumbles at the inane dialogue on the tv, John feels the rumble through his own chest and smiles where Sherlock can’t see it, combing his fingers through soft tangles of hair.

Despite never giving voice to the complexities behind this new arrangement, they both work to keep it as a constant routine, sometimes simply falling into one another in this exact way after cases and work; after John returns from Tesco; when Sherlock arrives home from a day spent locked away in the morgue. In the earliest occurrences, the tv is always on; later, it is a 50/50 chance. In the times when there’s silence, Sherlock dozes away days of missed sleep against John’s chest; in others, John sleeps and Sherlock hums inside his mind, organizing and sorting out mental clutter in the safety provided by John’s open arms and gentle snoring.

They discover connection within one another; a pull that keeps them anchored in days where the world seems to fly apart, determined to take them with it. Through moments both thick and thin, Sherlock tethers himself to John and, without fail, John brings him home.


End file.
